s on high. Who will serve the King as
torch-bearers?"

And now there was silence and stiffness among the lady-grasses as each
feared to lose her chance to be given a title, and waited for the
others. At last two slender grass-maidens advanced with glowing faces
but reluctant step. They were not as beautiful as some of their
sisters. Their ribbons were few and some of them were frayed. They
scarcely expected the King to accept them, but they meekly offered
themselves, as they said,

"We, O King, will be your torch-bearers."

The King looked greatly pleased as he replied,

"So be it, indeed. Stand here on either hand. And now," continued the
King, "I must have an incense-bearer to swing my censer over the
meadows. Who will be my incense-bearer?"

For a moment there was silence again among the lady-grasses, but only
for a moment. Then out stepped one of the daintiest of them all. She
tripped quickly and quietly down the hill to the King, saying modestly
as she approached,

"I will be your incense-bearer."

"Let it be so," said the King. "Await my commands. Yet one more
servant," he added. "I need some one to ring the chimes. Who among all
these loyal subjects, man or maid, will ring the chimes?"

Scarcely had the King's words left his lips when one of the noblest
grasses of all, her broad green ribbons rustling as she moved, left
the crowded ranks of the grasses, and eagerly advanced before the
King. "If it please your Majesty, I will ring the chimes," she said.

Then the King looked around, satisfied, upon his eager and expectant
audience, and spoke a few brief words to them. He had come, he said,
fearing that the task was almost too great for even a king--to choose
among so many and so beautiful subjects. But they had helped him by
choosing for themselves, and he had now only to award the honors.

"Keeper of the gate," he commanded, "stand before the King!"

The keeper of the gate came awkwardly forward, pricking all who
brushed against him as he passed.

"Because you have been willing to serve," said the King, "I reward you
with distinguished honor." Then, taking from the hand of a page a
great velvet cap of purplish red, he placed it upon the head of the
gatekeeper, saying as he did so, "I dub you: My Lord, the Thistle.

"Let the King's herald stand forth!"

The little round, happy herald obeyed. The King took a great gold
coronet from the hand of a page and placed it upon the herald's head,
saying,